


Selfish

by ziskandra



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Couch Sex, Extended Scene, F/F, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:28:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26124253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziskandra/pseuds/ziskandra
Summary: The truth of the matter is simple: it is difficult to pinpoint exactly when she had fallen in love. Evelyn only knows that loving Josephine Montilyet feels as natural as breathing.An extension of the scene where Josephine and the Inquisitor cuddle in front of the fire.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Josephine Montilyet, Josephine Montilyet/Female Trevelyan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 74
Collections: Femslash After Dark 2020





	Selfish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gayporwave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayporwave/gifts).



Fire crackles in the ornate hearth before them, warmth radiating from the burning wood and illuminating the room in a soft glow. A light breeze blows through the open doors from the balcony, fresh air providing a cooling contrast. Perhaps it’s not the most effective method of heating their surrounds, but truth be told, in this one stolen moment, Evelyn’s world has narrowed.

She has eyes only for Josephine.

It’s rare that they get to spend time together like this, with no threat of interruption, no looming guilt at the thought of shirking their responsibilities. But after everything they’ve been through to get where they are today, Evelyn can’t help but think they’ve earned this moment of peace.

It’s clear Josephine has similar thoughts on her mind, what with the way her hand skims down from where it had been resting against her breastbone, over her stomach and to the ties of her breeches. Evelyn’s eyes meet Josephine’s and she answers the unspoken question with a cant of her hips.

“It will be nice,” Josephine starts as she nimbly undoes the laces, “to be able to take our time tonight.” It’s said with all the gentle pleasantness of her usual candour, but Evelyn has seen Josephine secure allies and manoeuvre rivals with the proper application of pressure in all the right places. Coupled with the glint of mischief in Josephine’s eyes, Evelyn’s certain that the evening’s events might be a lot more than merely _nice_.

A rumble of confirmation comes low from the back of Evelyn’s throat as she twists her upper body in order to be able to properly face her lover. “I’ve been thinking of this moment ever since I accepted that duel.” Her hands find the ornamented collar that lies heavy over Josephine’s clothes, and she works to lift it over the other woman’s head. “Maker, how much does this thing weigh?”

The corner of Josephine’s lips curl upwards in amusement, fingers slipping beneath the hem of Evelyn’s smallclothes, smoothing through the curls atop her mound. “Enough to remind me of my duties as the ambassador of the Inquisition.”

Evelyn draws in a shaky breath as she places the extravagant jewellery down gently upon the carpet. “You don’t strike me as the sort of person who’d forget.”

The pads of Josephine’s fingertips find Evelyn’s clit, tracing gentle circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Perhaps if she was with anyone else, Evelyn would feel self-consciousness about the heaviness of her breathing, but there is no room for discomfort between them. “No?” Josephine asks. “You always did flatter me far too much.”

It is tempting to simply sink into the back of the settee and let Josephine have her way with her, but the desire to continue peeling the layers of Josephine’s clothing wins out. Next, she unties the gold silk sash at Josephine’s waist, giving her better access to the leather belt underneath, the one that emphasises her figure. Looking at the other woman wondrously, Evelyn murmurs, “I flatter you precisely as much as you deserve.”

Josephine huffs in amusement before she reaches out for Evelyn’s wrist with her spare hand, gently moving it away. The corners of her eyes crinkle as she smiles. “Relax,” she urges. “We have no need to rush.”

The way Josephine is caressing her in this moment is different from their previous experiences together. They are accustomed to little more than quick trysts either in Josephine’s office or the War Room itself; even with a trusted lookout, the thrill and fear of discovery had remained, and some days, the goal had simply been to reach climax before the true threat of interruption became inevitable. And of course, after Josephine had received news of her engagement, their liaisons had stopped completely.

Evelyn’s eyes flutter shut. It has been far too long. The words slip out of her again before she can stop herself, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. “I love you.” Now that they’ve been said once more, however, Evelyn finds that she has no regrets. How can she have any misgivings about what has led to _this_?

Josephine laughs in surprise. Evelyn has never heard a more beautiful sound in the world. Pressing a soft kiss against Evelyn’s cheek, Josephine whispers, “I love you, too.”

“It feels good to say aloud,” Evelyn admits, the rhythm of her breathing become increasingly more jagged as Josephine increases the tempo of her movements, fingers occasionally swiping gently over her clit in a way that makes Evelyn jerk her hips, desperate for more friction. Josephine’s obviously teasing her on purpose, because previous exposure has taught Evelyn that Josephine can get her off with the same methodical expertise with which she approaches her daily tasks.

Evelyn opens her eyes briefly to find Josephine regarding her with unguarded curiosity, warm brown eyes like honey studying the contours of her face. “If I may ask,” Josephine starts, and as the muscles in Evelyn’s thighs contract, expand, she knows she would answer any question Josephine had of her, “what was it that made you realise?” There’s a slight pause, a temporary slowing of her momentum as Josephine’s gaze flickers away for a moment before she regroups her determination and continues. “That you loved me?”

Several answers flicker through Evelyn’s mind all at once. First and foremost is what she feels is the obvious one: _how could I not?_ As sincere as the words might be, Josephine is unlikely to be placated by them, so Evelyn scrambles for alternatives that might suffice. She finds it difficult to define her emotions at the best of times, doubly so when her mind is clouded by a thick fog of lust as she’s coaxed slowly and steadily to her peak. “Wait, wait, I’m thinking,” she says, both to buy herself time and not to keep Josephine in suspense.

The truth of the matter is simple: it is difficult to pinpoint exactly when she had fallen in love. She only knows that loving Josephine Montilyet feels as natural as breathing. 

Josephine hums, a sound of intermingled acknowledgement and amusement, before lowering her lips to Evelyn’s neck, against the thread of strong muscle there, the very same spot that had almost brought Evelyn to her knees during their first encounter together. They had first kissed on the balcony, not far from where there were sitting now, gentle at first before Josephine had grown bolder, mouth trailing a warm path down her throat as Josephine had pressed herself against her. Even despite the layers of clothing that had separated them in that moment, Evelyn had been hyperaware of the shape of the other woman’s breasts, her curves, against her own. She’d half-fallen against Josephine, a moan forming deep from the back of her throat.

She’d wanted the moment to last forever. Had known that it couldn’t.

Realisation strikes her with a clap of clarity: she had known she loved Josephine when circumstances threatened to break them apart. Andraste preserve her, she had impulsively duelled for Josephine’s hand in marriage because she could not simply wait any longer than necessary to have her by her side again.

Her desire to share her understanding with Josephine is overwhelmed by her impending orgasm: heat pools low in her belly as building tension reaches its crest. She is close, close, so close, and then she is _gone_ , deftly pushed over the hill of her arousal.

Josephine smiles, steady and knowing, before leaning in to capture Evelyn’s lips with her own, kissing her soundly. Evelyn’s slow to react, still basking in the afterglow of her orgasm, but as the pulsing of her cunt weakens, she has the presence of mind to start kissing back, hands moving to grasp the sides of Josephine’s face before one of them drifts upwards and threads itself through her hair, starts unwinding Josephine’s meticulously styled updo so that her dark hair spills down over her shoulders.

Maker, Evelyn loves seeing Josephine with her hair down. She’s not so reluctant as she usually is to break the kiss because this way she can properly admire her handiwork, even though Josephine’s still wearing far too much clothing. They both are. And yet, she finds herself too satiated to complain. Instead, she stretches out along the settee, head resting against Josephine’s chest. “You distracted me,” she reprimands lightly. There’s no heat in her words. “But I came up with an answer.”

“Oh?” Josephine asks, with the quirk of an eyebrow. Their eyes meet.

“When you told me about your engagement,” Evelyn readily replies. The words flow naturally off her tongue now that she has had a moment to think of them. Perhaps Josephine had been distracting her on purpose. “Maybe it wasn’t right of me. But I just knew then that I had to do something about it.”

Josephine presses a gentle kiss against the top of Evelyn’s head. “Selfishly? I am very glad you did."

Evelyn laughs. She has a very nice view of Josephine from this angle, the jut of her chin, the hook of her nose. “If you’re selfish, I’m selfish too.” As though to emphasise her words, her hands return to Josephine’s clothing with renewed determination to remove the unnecessary layers of garments. She wants to see Josephine’s breasts spill out of her silks and velvets like heavy raindrops, wants to bring Josephine to her own completion again and again.

“Should we move to the bed?” Evelyn asks. Josephine grasps her hand in eager acceptance.

In the morning the challenges and the demands of the Inquisition will return. For now, however, the night is young, and they can lose themselves in their own private world.


End file.
